This is Rose
by xXCombatWombatXx
Summary: She had to keep running, she was so close to escaping, so close to her freedom. She wouldn't last another minute in their 'care'. Rose had to keep going, she was terrified they would catch her, their heavy footfalls were so close. It wasn't the dead she feared anymore. Daryl/OC or Rick/OC not sure which yet.
1. Chapter 1

**The Walking Dead Fanfiction**

**I own nothing**

**This is Rose Chapter 1**

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I was running, the cold air causing my breath to mist with every exhale. I could barely see, the forest seemed to absorb any light that got through the thick trees. My legs hurt, ached from the strain of my muscles tensing, pushing them to go further than they could manage, just that little bit more. Stray branches caught on what little scraps of clothes I still wore. Cuts and bruises littered my body, creating a morbid mosaic across my skin, a show of my time spent in their 'care'.

I could hear them gaining, their heavy footfalls on the forest floor creating a steady rhythm. I had to run faster, ignore the stinging of my bleeding feet as they tore on the sharp bed, branches snapped as I threw myself through the dense foliage in my efforts to escape. My lungs screamed for air, faster, I could hear them gaining.

It wasn't the dead I feared anymore.

I was so tired, I was scared, I was hungry, but most of all I just wanted it to end. I considered the possibility of slowing down, maybe they would be so angry that they would just kill me, the second it entered my thoughts I dismissed it. The sadness my family would feel at me giving up, I was just so tired, so weary, I wanted to be with them again. Even if they did catch me they wouldn't dispose of me, they would keep me; use me to their pleasure like before. That was worse than any death.

I could hear their shouts from behind me "I see her, shoot her in the legs!" a bullet flew by me, leaves and debris flying into the air, I flinched and changed direction, veering off sharply to my left. I was always a good sprinter, for a girl anyway, but the abuse and starvation was taxing my weary muscles, unable to take the sheer load that was being forced on them.

I could hear them stumble, knocking into one another to follow the direction I had taken. I had brought myself a bit more time.

My knees were beginning to buckle now, my thighs cramping and causing pain to shoot up my legs, not much longer left. Breathe in through your nose Rose, remember, in through your nose and out through your mouth just like your sister told you, focus.

Tears stung my eyes as I used every ounce of strength I had left in my battered body, trees whipped by the sides of my vision as I ran, jumping over falling branches and scrambling out of the way of thick trunks, I gave a loud exhale as I lost my footing, the floor falling beneath my foot and causing my ankle to give a loud crunch. I held in my scream, biting my lip so hard that blood burst into my mouth, a steep decline met my fall, twigs and rocks bashing my body as I fell down, my limbs being snagged every way, I was going so fast, my body out of control, I dimly registered the shouts following me getting closer.

My head smashed into a rock, everything blurred, then darkened around me.

"Hey, loser, wake up. Don't you think it's a bit late to be sleeping in? Come on mop head, get up everyone's waiting for you" I was always terrible at waking up in the mornings. At least Grace decided to wake me up nicely this time, instead of pouring water over me, or yanking the bed sheets off.

I must admit, I certainly haven't missed sharing a house with her. I opened my eyes, squinting as the sun hit me right in the face, she was standing at the end of my bed smiling obnoxiously for someone this early in the morning, from the clock on the wall behind her I could tell it was only 10 in the morning, much to early to be up on the weekend when I have the day off work.

"You guys have arrived early, did you really have nothing better to do on a Sunday morning?" I hoarsely whispered, flopping back into the bed sheets. I could definitely just fall back to sleep.

A hand grabbed my foot and gave it a sharp yank "Oi Rose! Don't fall asleep again, we're all going to watch a movie in a bit, go put some clothes on and come join us" She was always so bossy, I guess it came with the territory of being the mum of a young toddler and 8 months pregnant. I had my money on it being a girl, I already had a nephew, who I loved to dress in Pirate costumes and cowboy hats, I could really do with a niece to spoil and buy princess dresses for. Obviously I would have to take pictures too, for future humiliation purposes of course. I am definitely the cool aunt.

By this point Grace had strolled out of the room, muttering about dragging me out again if she had to, I was wide awake now. Grace could scare anyone out of bed.

I managed to slowly drag my foot out of bed, testing the temperature outside the comfort of my warm cocoon of duvets and blankets, I decided it was quite mild, not exactly warm but I wouldn't be freezing anytime soon either. At that I flopped out of bed, my whole body just tumbling off the mattress straight onto the floor. It's much easier to just get it over with, face the harsh world outside of my duvet.

I could hear all the chatter downstairs, Grace was here with her husband Brett, my amazingly cute nephew Josh and my parents. It was my turn to host the Sunday family dinner. I

t was times like these I really regretted giving my parents a spare key to my house, as I wasn't awake they decided to just invite themselves in. I guess I should be used to it by now, being their youngest child they always felt the need to check up on me, especially as I lived alone. I gave a large sigh as I dragged my hand through my mess of a hair, they exhausted me at times, but I really did love them to pieces and wouldn't trade any of them for the world.

I dragged myself over to the closet, throwing on some jogging bottoms and a t shirt, no need to dress up seeing as its just family over. I looked in the mirror, trying to decide what to do with my hair.

My sisters would often tease me, "mop head", they'd jokingly call me as a kid, unfortunately the pet name stuck. It was in reference to my wild morning hair, curls hanging in front of my face with no sense of direction. Once it was tamed it would look okay, but it took some nurturing to get it to that point. I blame my hair on my mum, it was almost an identical match to hers. My sisters both had shiny, auburn hair which had a natural wave to it, they looked like the women straight out of the herbal essence commercials. I obviously got the short straw on the gene pool when it came to hair.

I decided to just shove it in a bun on the top of my head, not exactly stylish but it would keep it out of the way for now.

I looked in the mirror, the older I got the more I seem to look like my dad, with my mums hair thrown on top of course. My sisters definitely took after my mum in the face department.

A slightly crooked nose, thin top lip with a pouting bottom, a light dusting of freckles scattered over the bridge of my nose, a testament to the amount of time I spent in the sun. All brought together by my vibrant green eyes and dark hair which, usually, fell in soft curls around my face, I was cute. I could admit that.

I was always mistaken for a girl just entering adulthood rather than my actual age of 25, youthful faces ran in the family unfortunately. I wasn't a beauty by any means, but with my large eyes and quirky smile I was considered pretty by most standards.

As I stared in the mirror listening to the chatter downstairs, the image in front of me started to flicker. I shook my head, wondering if I was still just sleepy from my rude wake up call. Images flickered behind my eyelids, distant screams echoed. When I looked up, a different girl was standing in front of me. She looked scared, terrified even, and yet she looked distinctly familiar. As I stared at the unknown girl, images flickered behind my eyelids, blood, torn flesh, death. What was happening? I squeezed my eyes tight, hoping that the images would disappear and that the girl in the mirror would go away, as I opened them again the images slowly faded and my face once again stared back at me in the mirror.

Comparing myself with the girl I saw in the mirror, it was easy to see that I had led an easy life in comparison, full of love and family. The images started again, coming back full force, chasing away any other thoughts in my head. Death, destruction, blood, screams, one after the other, I remembered it all, remembered what happened.

I looked up in the mirror. A girl with a youthful face and bright green eyes was staring back at me. I was envious of this girl, of who she represented and who she had that made her so carefree and happy, and yet, I was sad. Sad that I knew that the light in her eyes would fade with time, with each loss. Slowly, the light died in the girls eyes, being replaced once again with the eyes of someone who was terrified and defeated.

I wanted the girl with the bright green eyes back.

I watched as slowly, the image transformed, her hair grew limp and unkempt, craving the attention it once had, her skin sunken and gaunt, starved to the very bones and that once cute, bashful smile, I knew would never appear on that face again and instead all that would be left is this hollow shell staring back at me. Emancipated. Empty. Silent.

This is me. This is my Story. This is Rose.

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Eeek, first chapter I have written. I have no idea if I am any good at writing stories! so really just going with the flow on this and seeing how it turns out. Notice any spelling or grammar mistakes? pop me a review and let me know so I can improve my writing. Not sure what pairing this will have, if any at the moment. Maybe Rose will die in the end? Maybe she'll end up with Daryl or Rick? we'll see. I will more than likely also rate this story 'M' just be safe, as there will be some gruesome bits coming up.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Walking Dead Fanfiction**

**I own nothing**

**This is Rose Chapter 2**

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My head felt heavy, a steady pounding resonated within my skull, creating a steady beat. I blearily opened my eyes, wincing as the blood crusted into my right eye pulled against the eyelashes, opening scabbed sores.

I squinted as the light caused my pupils to sharply constrict. I was staring up at the sky, the clouds mixing together enveloping the earth in a dull gray atmosphere, water perspired from the trees overshadowing my body, setting a deep chill into my very bones.

I was shaking violently, every tremor causing pain to wrack through my body. I closed my eyes to the light, taking in the sounds around me. I could hear birds flying overhead, a gentle breeze causing the branches to rustle, to me this was serene. In some ways I wish I could just go back to unconsciousness, to that dark place where I would no longer feel, where I would be safe from this world and never wake up. The ultimate peace.

I reprimanded myself, knowing that I had to be strong and carry on. No one would save me, I would have to save myself, I promised them I would survive. I opened my eyes again, taking a deep breath, I hoisted myself quickly to a sitting position, the pain was excruciating. Blood seeped from a deep cut on my waist where a branch must have pierced my flesh during my fall, I took stock of my surroundings.

Behind me lay a sharp incline, where I must have fallen. Trees scattered all around me creating a dense atmosphere. Anything or anyone could be hidden amongst those trees, I listened intently, trying to make out the sound of footsteps, nothing. They must have passed right by me, at this thought I felt my hopes rise, maybe I was finally free? I quickly tried to disquiet my hope, knowing that this world wasn't built for such emotions. Survival, that's what I had to focus on.

I rolled over to my front, putting weight on my two hands and knees, looking over my shoulder I assessed my ankle, swollen and already bruising. I had no medical knowledge but I knew that it was broken at the least, I steeled myself as I hoisted my body back onto my right foot, keeping all my weight on the foot that was healthy. As soon as I righted myself a wave of dizziness overcame me, instinctively I put my hand to my head, coming away with blood. I needed to find water, make a splint for my foot, wrap my waist to reduce the blood and leave this area before they came back. As each task flew through my head my determination resolved itself, I could do this, I really could do this.

With one hand at my waist trying to stop the blood flow and another held out trying to steady myself against nearby trees, I managed to stumble forward, wincing in agony every time I put pressure on my injured foot. One foot after another, I could do this.

I thought of other things to take my mind off the pain, trying not to think about the fact that I was lost with no direction and potentially heading towards a danger zone. I had to laugh to myself, who would have thought I would be the one to survive? Out of all of us, why was it me? I was certainly no survivor, I had no skills, unlike my sister Emily who was the fittest girl around town, or my sister Grace who was smart, so smart that she would know what mushrooms I could eat thanks to all her stupid documentaries, or even like my mum…at this thought I had to stop, tears pooled my eyes. Why me? I couldn't do this, I can't do this on my own.

I shook my head, no use worrying about what I can't do, I should focus on what I can. Dad always said that we can accomplish anything we set our minds to and I am determined not to let him down, any of them down. I will survive this, for them I would survive this, I would do anything.

With this thought I pushed on again, determination causing my steps to quicken, the pain dulled, pushed to the back of my mind. Time seemed blend together, the sun slowly descending into the sky creating a dim glow. I knew that I wouldn't make it very far in the dark, I couldn't see anything.

Shuffling over to the nearest tree I hoisted up my good foot, resting my weight on my broken ankle. I bit my already broken lip, trying to keep quiet so as not to attract any unwanted guests. On a count of three I hoisted my body up, practically throwing myself onto the lower branches, letting out a gasp as I flopped onto my front over the thickest branch, putting pressure on my open wound. Deeply exhaling, I repeated my steps. Good foot into the knot of the tree, then hoisting myself up until eventually I rested on a high branch, out of reach and sight of anything which may decide to travel through this area.

Once I knew I was safe I could feel the tension leave my body, I had travelled far today. This thought worried me, surely I would be approaching something soon? I didn't know whether to rejoice at this thought or worry even more. In this world you never know what approaches. Leaning back against the tree I ripped more of my top off, leaving enough scraps to just barely cover my chest. With the piece of material, I undid the seams down one side, creating a long stretch of fabric, using this I tightly wrapped it around my waist, hoping the constant pressure would stop the blood flow enough that it may clot.

I wasn't very knowledgeable on medical practises, I didn't know if the wound would need to be stitched or if it was shallow enough to heal naturally. With what provisions I had I would have to make do for now. I could try to fashion a brace for my ankle, but with no knowledge of what I am doing I didn't know if it would be of much use or help in the long run. I banged my head back against the tree, finding the thump of my head against the bark calming to my already pounding head. Maybe my past treatment has caused me to find relief in the pain I was causing myself, the impact of my head against the bark dulling the ache in the rest of my body.

I tried to calm myself, I had to think logically. I still hadn't found water, at this point my body was severely dehydrated, my mouth feeling like cotton, my tongue swollen in its efforts to seek liquid. My hunger wasn't much better, I could feel my muscles shaking from the strain put on them. They didn't have enough nourishment to carry me, my sheer determination had carried me this far and hopefully it will carry me a bit further.

As this I smiled, I had always been told I was too stubborn; it seems that trait has finally come in use. "Stubborn as a mule" I'd heard my family mention it many times with my name in the same sentence, it was this thought that I drifted off to, a bitter-sweet smile on my face, ignoring the stinging behind my eyes, I couldn't waste any more time on tears.

* * *

Daylight came quicker than I expected, the sun shining through the leaves creating a beautiful landscape, rays of light literally pouring between the overlapping branches. I had always liked nature, it was both beautiful yet cruel. A perfect portrayal of the world.

My body was certainly feeling the strain today, every ache magnified. Today would be the testament to my survival in this new world, I was determined to survive.

With a groan I pulled myself to a sitting position, dragging my legs over the side of the branch. I had a look around to ensure that nothing had found my hiding spot. When I was assured that everything was clear I lowered myself onto the lower branch, slowly making my way back down to the ground. Everything hurt; I gritted my teeth, a determined set to my face and took the first step.

I lost count of the amount of trees I passed, trying to distract myself by focussing on the tasks I had set myself. Water, medicine, food, shelter.

Hopefully where I would find one I would find all of them, although where there was food and shelter I was worried about there being people.

My knees and hands were shaking, hunger striking my weak body and wearing it down.

I carried on, noticing the thinning of trees, at this observation I slowed my steps, keeping an ear out for any unnatural sounds. Slowly, step by step I walked forward, until finally a clearing opened out, revealing a small lake. At the sight my knees finally buckled, taking me down to the ground, I had done it! I had found water; I shuffled my whole body forward, crawling closer towards the water. I stared into the murky depths, seeing the muddy bottom of the lake bed. To me this was an oasis, pure paradise. I dunked both hands into the murky depths, almost to tears at the feel of the cool liquid; I cupped my hands bringing them to my mouth, greedily drinking the liquid down. It tasted divine.

The cool liquid soothed my throat, blessed relief. I carried on drinking, trying to take it slow, knowing that drinking large amounts could make me sick. As I brought my hands up again for the third sip I heard splashing, raising my eyes a gasp left my mouth, my hands falling behind me helping to scramble backwards, all pain left my body to be replaced by adrenalin.

An undead loomed in front of me, wading through the water in its efforts to reach me, its gnarled hands stretched in front of its body as if beckoning me closer. At the site of it a rage filled me, so strong I was at first taken aback at its intensity. How dare it? After all I have been through? I, finally, after months of agony find some semblance of hope by making it this far, by finding water, by surviving and after all of that this creature thinks it can end all of it?

The undead do not scare me, they are nothing but mindless creatures, slow and lumbering who are unable to think for themselves. I am stronger. At this I quickly stood up to my feet, the pain not even registering in my mind, I braced myself then tipped my body towards the approaching creature, slamming my whole body into its torso taking it down into the water. The creature flailed about, its limbs splashing in the water trying to reach me, I let out a shout of rage, my fist pummelling into its head, the adrenaline lending me strength, over and over, I slammed my knuckles into its face until I felt a crack, the skull caving under my rage. At this the creature twitched, then finally ceased. Laying still.

Its blood seeped into the water, poisoning my once pristine oasis. I had to move on, no doubt the fight would have been heard by others nearby and the water was now contaminated. Even at this thought I still felt elated, I had survived. I swung my body upright, trying to gather myself ready to move on. As I raised my head to look towards my destination, I saw it.

A big prison loomed in front of me.

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Oooh second chapter. Rose is feeling a bit bipolar at the moment, at times she has a bit of a self pity party, then she tries to act strong and deal with things. Realistically, she's just an average woman, pretty much crap at nearly everything that involves survival and who's lost everything she knows and (as hinted) has some past issues with previous people.

She wants to stay strong to do her family proud yet at the same time, she is just like you and me, with no clue how to survive and in some ways just wishing it was all over, but wanting to carry on so her family's death won't be in vain. I'm hoping to add more backstory involving her family and their first few days of survival, her encounters with other people and slowly how she became the mental mess she is today, I'm secretly hoping I can make this story quite weepy and some of you will cry! mwuahaha

Let me know how I'm doing, any suggestions? Any spelling mistakes or repeated grammar mistakes? Send me a message so I will know for future chapters :) Trying to keep each chapter around the 1,500-2000 mark each. Although I may type up a super long one at the weekend after I have re watched episode 1 of season 3, so I have some idea on what happens in the story haha


	3. Chapter 3

**The Walking Dead Fanfiction**

**I own nothing**

**This is Rose Chapter 3**

* * *

I shuffled closer to the prison, escaping from my previous position to avoid any unwanted creatures, the prison was coming closer to me with every foot until finally the trees became sparser offering me less protection from wondering eyes. I crouched down near some shrubbery, shielding my body whilst giving myself a clear view of the prison which lay a few hundred metres ahead.

Linked chains surrounded the enclosure, protecting it from outside forces. It would be a perfect haven if it was ever taken over by the living. A strong fortress, if properly fortified and protected it could keep hundreds of humans safe.

I had come across many places over my travels, where humans had settled down and tried to create communities, reminiscent of the past life they all led. They stayed in places thinking they were safe. They never were, if the undead didn't overtake them eventually other living people would. This world was cruel and brutal and you had to wise up to that fast to survive.

From my position I could see that the creatures roamed everywhere within the prison, at least a hundred just aimlessly shambling around the courtyard, who knows how many inside. Even if the inside of the prison did have less creatures in, there would still be the issue of the living. Maybe convicts still survived in there? I certainly didn't want to find out and in my condition I was in no state to be fighting off large groups of walkers. Not to mention the fact that the prison would be an advertisement for any living people to approach the enclosure, no doubt thinking the same as me about the safety of the place. No, I was much better off avoiding it.

With that decision I walked in the opposite direction, following the edge of the woods. I used nearby trees for leverage, every step draining. My body had become used to the strain in a way, I still felt the complete exhaustion and hunger my body was being put through, but I had adapted, growing somewhat used to the pains so they were more of a passing annoyance, being able to grit my teeth against the worst of it, the pain getting to a point where my body, as a coping mechanism, somehow dulled the pain.

It's funny how people can grow and adapt. Pain meant nothing to me now, just another obstacle to overcome.

It felt like I had been walking hours, my bare feet were ripped to shreds, skin hanging from some parts leaving the flesh underneath exposed. I didn't have many occurrences with the undead since my last encounter; looking down at myself I could understand. I was covered in my kill, brain matter and blood coating my skin, although admittedly some parts of the blood were no doubt mine. I knew that walker blood helped to deter other undead, it would be a good survival tactic in any other circumstance, but with my open wounds I was in an extremely dangerous position. While I didn't know if the disease could be passed just through blood, I really didn't want to take any chances, I had to get clean. Following the edge of the woods had been my best bet, the woods had to end eventually, hopefully leading to a small town, where there would be supplies left, if I was lucky. Most towns had been picked clean by now; it was only the small towns dotted around where you would have any luck of finding anything and the least chance of stumbling across a herd.

I couldn't tell how much time had passed, judging by the dimming sunlight I knew it had to have been a few hours at least. Thankfully, I could see some cars in the distance, slowly becoming clearer the nearer I approached. A road paved the way to a small town, cars abandoned on the roads, boarded up windows, blood splattered across parts of the ground and smeared across doors. The town looked abandoned by anything living, the only occupiers now being the roaming dead and by the looks of it, not many of them were still roaming here, if the desolate streets were anything to go by.

I limped along the road, approaching the nearest building, taking note of the broken door which hung precariously from its hinges. I needed to find supplies. Preferably something to stitch up my wounds, disinfectant, maybe antibiotics for infections if I was lucky to come across any and I couldn't forget a weapon.

I walked to the door of the house, having to give the door a large shove to finally get it to open, the hinges giving a loud creak as the door finally came free. Finally gaining entrance I took a look at the entranceway, wallpaper was fraying from the wall, peeling off at the edges, furniture littered the floor and family pictures hung delicately, some pictures had fallen, the frame smashed across the ground, ensuring I had to be careful where I walked lest I get glass embedded in my feet.

The home was just like any other, the previous occupiers seemed to be a family if the two smiling children in one of the hanging pictures was any indication. Walking through the entrance gave me an almost nostalgic feeling, as if coming home after a long holiday. I approached a door on my left to find the Kitchen, unlike the entranceway the Kitchen was virtually untouched. All the appliances were neatly arranged on the counters, plates laid out on the breakfast table, as if awaiting guests.

I quickly opened the cupboards, scavenging for any leftover food or anything of use. Plates, cutlery, pots and pans. Searching the cupboards I finally managed to track down what I came for, a unit containing tinned goods, beans, tomatoes, chilli con carne. It wasn't much, but for one person it would certainly help me get by.

Taking all the cans out that I could find I arranged them on the counter top, getting all the supplies together I could. 3 canned goods, not bad for my first scavenge. I considered looking in the fridge, no doubt the heat would have ruined anything salvageable. Deciding it may be worth a shot I opened the fridge door, regretting it almost instantly at the stench of retched food. Mould covered all of the food, bacteria eating away at everything. Sighing, I carried on my search.

I still needed a bag to carry my supplies in, clothes, medical supplies and finally water to clean my wounds and the gore from my body. I know I could survive, slowly. I just had to take baby steps and scavenge for any little thing I could.

Taking the can of beans I opened the lid, finding a nearby spoon I shovelled the food into my mouth, almost choking at the speed I was eating them. They were the best things I had tasted in months.

I walked back into the entrance way leaning against the wall when needed for support. Approaching the stairs I peered up, listening for any sounds. Hearing nothing, I carefully placed my foot on the first step, the carpet on the stairs turning a rustic red with the crusted blood it wiped from my feet.

Finally reaching the landing I took a look around. Two doors on my left and two on my right. Deciding to go to my left first, I approached the first door, opening it to get a waft of rotting flesh reach my nose.

Light drifted into the room from the window, blue curtains and wallpaper, spaceships and little planets plastered around the room. Toys scattered on the carpet, toy cars and a pirate ship.

And on the bed lay a little boy. As if sleeping, he was lying in his bed still, the bed covers up to his neck. Curled up and tucked in. Little moans came from his mouth, his head turned towards me, the covers moving as if he was trying to reach me from beneath his bed sheets.

I immediately turned and left the room, shutting the door as I exited. I could still hear him struggling to get out of bed.

I couldn't do it. I knew they were sick people, that there was no hope for them, that once they turned there was no coming back, but I couldn't do it.

Taking a deep breath I carried on. The next door led me to a bathroom , it seems I was in luck as the sink housed a cupboard underneath. The cupboard containing a bottle of painkillers, ibuprofen, muscle rub and some plasters. I would have to come back for the supplies once I had found something to carry them in.

Leaving the room I approached the last two doors. "Jacks room" hung off the door for one of the rooms. Remembering the first bedroom I entered I knew that I would gain nothing by entering this room. I entered the other bedroom, seeing two bodies lying in the bed. The minute I entered their heads turned towards me, their bodies starting to rise from the bed. I strode over to the bed side table nearest the first undead, wrenching the lamp from the table I raised it above my head and quickly brought it down on the first body. _Thump _the body once again lay limp, by now the second body was standing. Its brittle legs helping it stumble towards me in search of fresh food. Turning my body towards the undead I once again raised the lamp _Thump _the body hit the floor with a soft thud.

I stood back, dropping the lamp to the ground and inspecting the room, ensuring that they were the only ones in the room. After hearing no more movement I took a look at the undead. By appearances the first undead seemed to be a woman, about the same height as me, by now her body had decomposed to quite a degree, the stench filling the room. She wasn't in a terrible state compared to others I had seen, most probably due to the fact that their bodies were protected by being inside the house. I also noticed that she appeared to have no bites. Looking at the second undead I noticed the same thing. They were both bite free.

I found the reason why on their bedside table. Sleeping pills and wine. It seems the family decided to opt out. It explained why the little one was tucked up in his bed, I'm not sure if the thought of the family opting out upset me or made me glad. I was happy in a way that none of them suffered, that they all got to leave together and without pain. Yet on the other hand, maybe they could have survived, but then what life is this? Just surviving, not really living, struggling every day.

Turning away from the bodies I made my way to the wardrobe, opening the doors to find a selection of clothes and shoes. I was ecstatic to finally find shoes. While I would need to treat my feet before even contemplating wearing any shoes I was happy that I had finally found some protection from the elements.

I walked back over the bed, dragging the females body off the bed and towards the door, repeating the process with the male. I could still hear moans from down the hallway, it seems he was still tucked up in bed and hadn't managed to get out yet.

Once the bodies of the parents were out of the way I once again approached the bed, yanking the sheets off and throwing them over the bodies, leaving just the bare mattress. This house seemed like a suitable place to stay. Peering out the window just beside the bed I could see that the sun was almost down, outside almost completely dark. I could make out a few undead in the streets, they seemed to get more active at night, there weren't enough undead outside to cause me any problems. The house would be a good place to stay for the night until I had the energy to search the other buildings.

Going to the wardrobe I took out any clothes which looked to fit and chucked them onto the floor nearest the bed, hard bottomed shoes, long sleeved tops, vests, tracksuit bottoms. Anything which provided protection from the cold. With winter approaching it was vital that I was able to gather enough resources to help me survive.

I raided drawers for socks and underwear. Coming to this town had certainly proved fruitful so far, hopefully the other houses and shops would provide some more food, if they did then I could be set for a while.

Standing once more I took stock of my pile of supplies. I needed to find a bag to carry this in. Observing the room I looked for anything I may have missed. I finally noticed a shelf located high up on the wardrobe. I wouldn't be able to reach it at my height.

I couldn't find any chairs or stools to give me a boost to the shelf and the thought of searching the rest of the house or dragging furniture up here made me feel ill with exhaustion.

Going over to the bodies once more I dragged them a bit further so they blocked the door. The stench of the bodies and the weight of the corpses against the door should keep any other undead away, not to mention that my own body still smelled like the dead.

Deciding that I had done enough for the day, I slumped onto the mattress, my body instantly sagging into the soft mattress, all the strain draining from my muscles at no longer having to hold me up. I'm sure I could cope one more day covered in gore; I certainly don't think my body could manage standing for much longer.

I got lucky today, I managed to find food, clothes, some medicine. Hopefully tomorrow will yield even more. Maybe things are finally going right for me. I hope they're proud of me for making it this far, I couldn't of done it without them, the thought of them pushing me on, encouraging me from heaven or wherever people go when they die.

I fell to sleep with thoughts of them in my head. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

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_I kind of struggled with this chapter, I'm trying to make it interesting yet at the same time I want to put across that she's struggling on her own but kind of managing. She's not excelling at it by any means and probably won't survive for long if there were a lot of walkers, but her determination to survive is pulling her through. I don't want to just plonk her with the Walking Dead crew straight away, I want you guys to relate to her and maybe imagine yourselves in her situation (because let's face it, like her most of us would probably suck in a zombie apocalypse and would get by just by sheer luck yet would feel too guilty taking the easy way out)_

_I'm still not sure if I will follow the main story line or if she will end up with Daryl or Rick. At the moment I am kind of going towards Rick, mainly because he'd fill a weird fatherly caring role for Rose, which I think she needs as she's quite messed up and really needs that stability, whereas I view Daryl as a more passionate and protective lover, who also has a bad background, so in a way he could relate to Rose but I think she doesn't really need passion in her relationship, she needs a sort of father role. If that makes sense? haha_

_Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed. If you noticed any grammar mistakes please drop me a message! _


	4. Chapter 4

**The Walking Dead Fanfiction**

**I own nothing**

**This is Rose Chapter 4**

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My eyes squinted open, my mouth felt like cotton, my tongue so swollen in the search of water that it was stuck to the roof of my mouth, the texture of sandpaper. The stench of rotten corpses reached my nose, reminding me of where I was. It's strange how just a year ago I would have retched at the mere smell, yet now I barely bat an eyelid at the decomposing bodies which share the room I sleep in.

I peeled myself from the bare mattress, wincing as my bones creaked in protest and my skin pulled tight at my wounds. While some of my blood had soaked through onto the mattress it appeared that the wounds had coagulated and scabbed for the most part. Still, unless I wanted the wounds to fester and develop infections I would still need to find medicine and stitch up the worst of it.

I had other houses to search today. Gathering my bearings, I marched from the bed over to the window. Determination keeping me steady and strong. It was quiet outside, only a few undead walking about further down the road, I could avoid them completely if I was lucky.

I stripped off what was left of my top, ripping the scraps at places where the top had stuck to my skin. I removed my underwear. The thought that I had not been wearing trousers this whole time didn't even register in my brain, I had lost my dignity long ago.

Going to the supplies gathered at the end of the bed, I slipped on a long sleeved shirt, then a pair of slacks, rolling up the bottom so that my feet were visible.

I picked the thickest socks I could find, wincing as I put them on over my flayed feet. I took a pair of sturdy boots next, while they were much too big for my feet and clearly made for a male, any protection was better than nothing. If I carried on travelling on my bare feet I may cause myself permanent damage and if I am unable to run away I am as good as dead.

I stood up, almost gagging from the sheer pain of having my cut feet enclosed. Taking deep breathes I calmed my mind, trying to sink deeper into the thinking and mentality of a survivor. Survivors ignore pain, they focus and do not get distracted, they do everything they can to survive and I will not survive if I am not able to move. I raged at myself in my mind, I would not let something pathetic like this take me down, I have survived much worse.

It felt strange to feel socks on my feet again, the rough cotton rubbing against what little skin I had left on my feet. The thick sole of the boots softening every step, my feet felt heavy but protected.

I was in survivor mode, focussed on nothing but getting through the day, living to see the next. Ignoring the pains of my still hungry stomach, the matted hair stuck to my face with grease and other bodily fluids, blood caked on my skin, the aching pain from my broken body.

My mind set, I made my way to the door, grabbing the first body by the feet and dragging it across the floor, repeating the process for the second body. Everything was quiet in the house, no sign of other undead within the building. It was safe to leave, I would have to come back for the supplies of course, but first I needed something study to carry them in.

I took strong steps from the room, the pain in my feet just a gentle hum in the back of my mind now. Going to the Kitchen I looked for some sort of defence, only finding pans and plates which I had ransacked from the cupboards yesterday. I decided a large frying pan would have to do, while I wouldn't be taking down herds I'm sure I could bash in the occasional head if needs be. The thought almost made me laugh, who knew I would be surviving the apocalypse with a frying pan as my weapon.

With frying pan in hand, I made my way to the front door, pausing just before it to steady my nerves. It was almost a comfort to be able to sleep in this house, to be surrounded by walls again. Maybe I would make this town my home for a while before moving on. I liked that thought. It calmed my nerves thinking of this place as my new home, made me feel safe in a way. I was ready to go out there again now, knowing that I could come back here.

Bracing myself, I walked the few metres it took to be fully outside, raising the hand which held my frying pan ready. They couldn't see me yet, if I was quick I could run across to the house just across the road. Crouching my body, I made my way as quickly as possible, almost hopping at parts when when my feet became too painful to run. I could only spot three shuffling further down the road; I wonder why this town is so empty. I was finally approaching the front door of the house, it appeared to be completely shut. Reaching for the door handle I found that it wouldn't open, the door was locked.

I could smash a window, although no doubt the sound would draw the undead to me like flies to a carcass. Climbing through the window may seem problematic too, with my body in this condition and the time it would take me to physically get myself through the window, I could be signing my own death by getting myself caught in a position where I couldn't make a quick getaway if necessary.

On the other hand, if the door was locked it could mean many things. The previous owners could have locked themselves in in an effort to preserve their lives. Although the fact that there were no boarded up windows went against this idea. The owner may not have even made it back home; that would be the most fruitful for me.

Thankfully the house still looked intact, if the house hadn't been broken into by other scavengers it meant there would still be supplies left untouched and hopefully no undead within the building. There could potentially be a goldmine of supplies within this house. My mind made up, I crept around the side of the house until I got to the first window a few feet away. Removing my shirt, I wrapped my frying pan with the fabric until it was cushioned. While I could not prevent the glass from making noise when it hits the floor, I could at least prevent making noise when actually smashing it.

I braced myself for the noise, brought my arm behind me and swung with everything I had. The sound was almost deafening compared with the silence which surrounded me before. Already I could hear the shuffling of feet coming to investigate. Hastened by the quickly approaching groans and shuffles I quickly used the frying pan and shirt to smash what was left of the window, ensuring that the glass at all the edges were destroyed. With that done I launched my body through the now open window. Frying pan and shirt still in hand.

My body slammed onto the ground, the broken glass digging into my arms, embedding itself into my skin. Scuffling across the floor on all fours, I tried to get away from the window. If they didn't see me they hopefully wouldn't figure out I was inside. By now the groans sounded just behind me, as if they were just approaching the front door.

Getting up into a crouch, trying to make my body as small and less visible as possible, I made my way to the stairs. I would start my forage up there, while I would have preferred to search for food first, I couldn't risk the undead seeing me in the house. No doubt they would investigate the noise for a while, but they'd soon get bored and wonder off. They were dumb things, easily distracted and slow and lumbering, if they couldn't see, hear or smell me right in front of their noses they weren't interested.

They weren't smart enough to hunt like humans do, to track down their victims.

I got to the landing, brushing off the glass from my arms and whipping my shirt back on. Going into the first room I came across, a large bedroom greeted me, the bed fully made, everything neatly in place.

I closed the door behind me, a habit I had picked up in my efforts to stay alive, a way to put another obstacle between me and them. A beautiful wardrobe stood in the corner of the room, ornate in its nature with a dark wood with curves etched into its surface. Approaching the wardrobe I ran my hand across its surface, closing my eyes so that I could fully appreciate the smoothness of the wood. I had a wardrobe just like this, my mum had a classic taste, appreciating vintage and homely pieces and would take delight in decorating the house, eventually getting to my room and taking it over with her dark woods and quilted blankets. I used to hate her old fashioned taste, but she could certainly make any house a home. I guess that's just how mums are though.

It hurt to think of them, but it was a bittersweet hurt. Like falling on your face but laughing along with your friends at your clumsiness. The pain of their memories made me sad, made me more aware of the deep loneliness that had crept into my heart, of the surrounding silence and complete isolation I felt, but I still couldn't help to think back with fond memories. I felt like crying and laughing at the same time, an oxymoron if I ever heard one.

Chuckling, I brought my hand to my face. Wiping my palm across my eye, as if to bat away the thoughts. I felt like I was going crazy. I needed to focus.

Wrenching the wardrobe door open I found what I had been looking for, among the top shelf lay an assortment of bags. Yanking the bags down I let them fall to the floor, bags of different sizes surrounded my feet, from purses, clutch bags, shoulder bags to backpacks. I took the biggest bag I could find, a sturdy looking backpack which looked to be used for sports judging by the sleeves for water bottles at the sides of the bag.

Rummaging through the rest of the wardrobe I took a pair of sneakers, a couple of socks and underwear which looked to fit me, stuffing them into the bag as I went.

After searching through the rest of the room and finding nothing of use, I slipped my arms through the straps. I had no more need for clothes, with the supplies I had scavenged here and the ones in the previous house I would be set for a while.

I could still hear distant moans from outside, seemed they were still investigating the noise. Looks like I wouldn't be able to go in search of food anytime soon. I opened doors as I walked through the hallway, in search of the bathroom. Finally finding it, I went straight to the cabinet above the sink, finding it full with the normal feminine products, which I stocked away in my bag.

Hiding behind bottles of various sleeping pills I found myself a first aid kit. It seemed I had hit the jackpot. Ripping the kit from the cabinet I promptly emptied my find over the bathroom floor, rooting through the supplies to until I finally found what I had been searching for all this time. Sterile cleansing wipes, Steristrips, Dressings, it was all here. Once I'd put on some nitrile gloves found in the kit I ripped open the cleaning wipes, now for the hard part. Taking the wipes I vigorously rubbed my cuts and abrasions, taking away any visible dirt and grime. Chucking away the wipe which was now a dusky pink colour I swiped another from the pack, carrying on the ritual of cleansing my flesh from bacteria. I made full use of the first aid kit, pushing my wounded flesh together and sealing it with the Steristrips, slowly mending my body piece by piece.

I looked like a rag doll, Steristrips visible on every limb holding a piece of me together. While they were no substitute for professional stitches, they were good enough for an apocalypse. Stuffing the remains of the kit into my bag I left the bathroom.

By now the moans were quite far away, not as far as I would have hoped, but far enough for me to make my way back to my substitute home to dump my new items onto my stockpile.

It had been a busy day and I have a whole town to scavenge.

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_Wow that was a boring chapter, I meant to have her meet the cast in this chapter but instead I somehow managed to waffle for 2,000+ words. I am the queen of waffling! _


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